Sparks
by Simplysheree
Summary: The thing about Sparks was that she made him want a life outside this war... and that might not be an option for either of them. Rated M for later chapters and language, TaliXJames Vega. *Help me captain this ship!*
1. The thing (with sparks) is

The thing with Sparks was that she made him think.

She was always so calm, cool and efficient. He pulled himself up into a crunch and grunted as him stomach muscles protested under the strain. The thing was she was just so different from any person he'd ever met and she made him want to be better; James knew he wasn't the smartest guy. He knew that he thought with his gut and that his idea of strategy was picking who to hit first and that had never bothered him, until he thought she might have noticed.

Sparks was the kind of smart he'd never known before; that mix of passion, intelligence and logic that made someone magnetic. You had to respect a woman like that. The fact that her ass was damn near perfect didn't hurt. Letting his body slump back to the ground he relaxed; his heart thundered in his throat as a hot bead of sweat trickled past the corner of his eye. Dragging himself up again with a groan he, finally, admitted defeat and sat with his head hanging a little.

"You know, humans always surprise me," he jumped, startled from his reverie; _speak of the devil..._ he smiled at Tali as nonchalantly as he could manage,

"Yeah? Hows that Sparks?"

"For a species that abhors pain so much," she padded past him; her voice reminded him of running water. Like a stream bubbling over rocks, "you seem to inflict it upon yourselves often." He couldn't argue with that, for sure. So he scratched his head and grinned and lied through his teeth,

"I dunno Sparks, I feel fine." He stood and rolled his shoulders, flexing with a chuckle, "Do I look like I'm in pain to you?"

"No..." she put her hands on her hips, giving him the distinct impression that she was looking him up and down, "you look like a peacock showing off its tail feathers."

"Heh... well," he floundered, lost for words until he fell back on flirting, "it's good to know you noticed."

"Yes... well," she chortled and turned away, "one doesn't have to be a peacock to appreciate a lovely display."

_Wait- what?_ He double took; _did she? _Had she been flirting with him? He licked him lips and considered pushing his luck for a few moments before Scars came thundering in, cursing and swearing about the Primarch and Wrex. _Fabulous timing as always, Scars... and of course where there's one..._ Shepard sauntered in with a small smile on her lips,

"Hey, Lola, knew you couldn't stay away!" He laughed when she flicked the finger at him and slid up to Scars,

"Garrus, if you don't calm down you're going to explode."

He zoned them out and started working on Alenko's rifle; the trigger kept jamming, he said. He didn't even notice her slide up beside him until she took the rifle from his hands,

"You're going to break it if you keep doing that." She turned her face to him, "Sometimes you have to be gentle, approach it with care and caution."

"That right?" He eyes her carefully,

"Yes, afterall..." she drew the word out along with the offending object; a small piece of wire, "you wouldn't want to break it for something so silly as impatience." She handed the rifle back to him and laughed at, what he was sure was, his shell-shocked expression,

"No... heh, definitely not." He took it slowly, carefully, _gently,_

"Besides you don't want to get on Kaidans bad side," she laughed, "he's got _quite_ the temper for such a calm man."

And she was gone.

Just a slight breeze and a soft, spicy smell was left in her wake. _Carefully, gently, softly..._the words rang in his head. He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck, _cautiously? What does that mean?_ Fucked if he knew but the words still kept ringing in his head; did he really want to put time and energy, during a war, into chasing a woman that he couldn't even kiss, that might be allergic to him... that probably wasn't interested in him anyway?

Well, in a word? Yes. He did... but how could he justify the use of his time, his mind, as a mean to getting something that would be useless to the war effort? His eyes caught on Scars and Lola; they looked happy and cool, as if nothing could bother them. How much better had Lola's personal life gotten since she allowed Scars into it? The question answered itself; she'd gained the weight she lost, her skin was almost back to its usual shade and she didn't look dead on her feet anymore. That could only be good for the war... he rubbed the back of his neck again, ignoring the creeping bile that told him his happiness was not as paramount as Lolas.

That was the thing with Sparks; she made him nervous because wanting her was wanting a life outwith the war. And he wasn't sure that was an option for either of them right now.


	2. Lifeline

They spent as much time on the Citadel as they did out on the front lines these days, or so it seemed to James. Not that he minded too much; while the commander was dealing with political ingrates, he was at Purgatory or the casino or, usually, the Armax arena. He'd doubled his paycheck in prizes alone in the last month with all the time they'd been there; four matches a day could do that. The money didn't surprise him; it was hard enough to earn those tokens and, hell, ass kicking was his profession. No what surprised him was how much he enjoyed ass kicking with Esteban and the Major. Alenko, it seemed, was Steve's latest "safe" crush, meaning that while he wanted to jump on him, he wasn't able to for one reason or another. This, he swore, was because Kaidan was straight; James doubted it. Not out of macho derision or one upmanship but because the way the Major regarded Steve sometimes was a little... sweet? Perhaps that wasn't the exact right word but, hell, it came as close as any he could think of; he looked at him like he was something special and gentle that had landed on the barrel of his rifle. Something he wanted to reach out to but was too afraid to hurt or scare off; so he just stood there, still as you like, and stared at it while it graced him with its presence. If the Major was straight then he must think Esteban was a woman 'cause, in James' experience, nobody looked at their bunk buddy like that unless they wanted to be in the same bunk as 'em.

"He and Shepard were a thing for a while," Steve said with a shrug as they crouched behind low cover, "and she is, obviously, not a gay man James."

"No, she ain't," James said, "but there ain't any reason he couldn't like a bit of both, eh?" Steve shook the prospect away with a roll of his eyes and a lobbed smoke grenade. He was lying to himself, James knew that, but how do you tell a friend they're full of shit without offending? How can the words "you're afraid to be happy, pendejo" come without bringing bad feeling out to meet them?

They couldn't.

So he shook his head, laughed and resolved to keep a close eye on the Major; kind of a personal bet. One that Esteban didn't know about. If he lost then he lost nothing, if he won... well maybe he'd have a quiet word with the Major; clue him in and just wait out Steves temper. He scanned the field, watching Steve put down a virtual trooper with a brutal overload charge, or _maybe not._

"Round three over, Major Alenko wins." The automated voice called out dreamily, sending them back to the locker room with sweaty grins on their faces. Ten tokens between them, just over three thousand credits each and the satisfaction of still being the top three on the leaderboard, _good days, jefe, good days. _Little things were becoming more and more vital; little victories were celebrated with the gusto of major ones. In this war little victories were the staple they lived off, them and the hope of bigger ones in the future, _got to be realistic about this shit. _He grinned, knowing he was butchering a faveourite saying of the commanders.

"So you and Lola were kind of a thing, huh Major?" He said, Kaidan stopped and gave him a puzzled smile,

"Uh, yes... well, I guess." He said, "She and Garrus were close even on the SR-1 but I, well," he laughed, "I always thought Lessa was something special." Esteban was shooting him daggers, "But I was never going to be what she wanted; her and Garrus they're... well, they're perfect for each other."

"Yeah," James felt his own smile spread, "they really are. It's kind of creepy how in sync they are, no?" Kaidan snorted and nodded,

"Well thats why they're so effective on the battlefield... and at the negotiation table," he said with the air of someone who was stumbling across facts as he went, "in fact it's probably why they're so good at _everything_ when they're together. They fill out each others gaps, smooth the flaws and rough edges, I think." Steve cut in,

"Drinks in purgatory?"

"Sounds great," Kaidan turned his head to look straight at Steve and, for a second, his face was warm and open. He looked ten years younger, _like a kid again,_ James smiled, _I got you, man, I know that look._ It was, no doubt, the way he looked at Sparks and, because of this, he ducked out just as Steve bought in the first round; downing his own and declaring he had a headache, simply hoping this was enough to get the ball rolling. He'd grill Esteban when he started talking to him again; the boy could hold a grudge, _and this one's gonna last a day or two at least._ He mapped out the argument in his head as he strode back to the Normandy, only briefly considering a detour to the re-branded Chora's Den; even new management couldn't save that sick puppy. He boarded the ship and slunk to the mess hall without hailing Joker; boy was cold out in his chair.

He'd never paid much attention to the ship until he heard Sparks talk about it; it was what it was to him, a machine that kept them moving. It was home, help, work and, on the odd occaision, he was reminded that it was EDI. But to Sparks... it was... something else entirely; something he couldn't understand. She talked about it the way people talk about gods and celebrities; reverently and with care. She enthused about its stealth systems, its drive core, even the guns in which she had little interest; all of this was fairy dust to her. That magic thing that all the good bits of life were made of. In truth James was jealous. He wanted that passion, that soul affirming feeling that, yes he was alive because, somehow, he had managed to devote his life to something that seemed trivial. He wanted to have a free-time vortex of a hobby that never bored him; something that didn't hinge on gratuitous violence and cheap cerveza.

As if summoned by his wayward thoughts she tottered from the starboard lounge, hiccuping and staggering just a little. She seemed upset, though he couldn't pinpoint how he knew this, and he considered ducking into the mens bathroom, thereby preserving her privacy. She saw him however and laughed, stumbling to him and throwing her arms around his neck in a gesture that, for all its friendliness, made him feel like a life-raft.

"I-" hiccup, "I just learned that humans do this to their friends. With their friends?" She stopped, "To or with? Which." She hiccuped again,

"Uh, whichever you prefer, I guess, Sparks." He said, shifting from one foot to the other; she hadn't let him go yet and it was starting to seem like he'd have to make a choice. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, "You ok?"

"Fine, fine," she said breezily and let him go, hand running down his arm lightly, "I just got a call- from the admiralty board," the hiccups were becoming more frequent, "they're going to try to retake- R- Rannoch and I said to them, well I said, James, that they were just _crazy_ but-" she stooped suddenly, clapping her hand to her mask in a gesture so human that it almost cut throught his shock. They were going to attack Rannoch and something small but persistant told him the commander ha no idea, _shit, shit, shit-. _The look on his face must have been enough for her; she gripped him suddenly, both hands barely encircling his forearm, and gasped,

"James, you can't tell _anyone, _please, Keelah-_ I_ wasn't supposed to tell anyone," she squeezed his arm desperately and, despite himself, he softened,

"Does the Commander know?" He said with as much cool disapproval as he could find,

"No, I only found out about it myself today but please, James, don't tell her. Let me tell her." Her voice had risen a few octaves, her hands were shaking and he had the feeling that, if he could see her eyes, they would be not only beautiful but brimming with fearful tears; he relented,

"Okay, Sparks but when you gonna tell her, hm?"

"As soon as the fleet knows," she said, "they're the ones risking their lives, they should know first, don't you think?" _Ah, appeal to the common soldier in me, huh Sparks? I'd be pissed if it wasn't already working, _

"A week, Sparks," he sighed, suddenly wishing he'd never seen her here. Wishing he'd stayed in purgatory or staggered down to a strip club. Maybe not Chora's Den, something a little classier, but anywhere that wouldn't have thrust a secret on him when he already felt like his back was breaking, "you got a week before I tell her myself."

"A week." She said it with a kind of grim determination, as if thinking 'I can work with that', and James felt a guilty tightness in his stomach; it was too easy to forget how close the commander and her were. Too easy to see Sparks as just another threat, _she don't wanna screw Lola over anymore than I do. _He swallowed the apology twice and walked past her,

"James." She called after him, a solitary hiccup echoing around the halls,

"Yeah?" He turned, flinching a little upon finding her already inches from him, _mujer moves like shadow, _

"Thank you." She hugged him again, squeezed him tight like he was a lifeline and, without even trying, reminded him of how important this was to her.

He had lost his home sure but Sparks, well, she never had hers to begin with.

How could he grudge her this? He wrapped his arms around her as best he could without crushing her or making her uncomfortable and sighed,

"De nada, Sparks-" he faltered, "I really hope it works out the way you want."


End file.
